


As Far as Rainbows Go

by Pie_addicted_hamster



Category: Original Work
Genre: Aizawa is an angel tho, Baby (yeah yeah the car from SPN except it gets kinda wrecked here), Baptism, Dolores Umbridge Being an Asshole, Dolores is an asshole too, Drowning, Everyone is an OC besides Aizawa, F/F, Fluff Turned Angst, Homophobia, I can't write a story in 750 words, It's short but yeah there's still fluff, Kissing, Literally a school narrative turned OC fanfic, Mentioned Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Mrs.My teacher if you find this pls don't fail me, angst and fear but happy ending, baptism turned drowning, called out, conversion therapy, even this is forced, for the sake of my grade all profanity has been darned to heck, lesbian fluff, like literally he's there for a second because i'm anime trash, outed by classmate to school, sorry I went 2750 words over the limit, works at DQ, yeah that's the same dolores, you probably should just ignore this it's trash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2018-12-15
Packaged: 2019-09-19 13:26:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17002503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pie_addicted_hamster/pseuds/Pie_addicted_hamster
Summary: Brooke (OC) and Grace (also OC) are lesbians attending a Christian college run by homophobic assholes. When Brooke is outed by a classmate, the school takes 'curing' her of her homosexual demons into their own hands. But this is fluff so she pulls through and there's more fluff in the end. If you want fluff, this is fluff.





	1. In Her Arms

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: this was actually a school narrative written on the topic of the evils of conversion therapy.

Brooke didn’t think she would ever tire of watching Grace sleep- a fact that would have sounded much creepier if she’d said it a mere month ago, before the two of them had finally, finally, admitted their feelings for each other. That turned out to be one of the best decisions either of them had ever made, no matter what any pastor could preach. 

She laid there quietly, watching and listening to the steady and rhythmic rise and fall of her girlfriend’s breaths. The sound grounded her, keeping Brooke’s mind from slipping to places she didn’t want to go- like school. Like how that biotch Kimberly had run to the school board after seeing them kiss, and how they probably would-No. Brooke grit her teeth to stop the waterfall of panicked thoughts from rushing out. She couldn’t think about that stuff yet, at least not when Grace was still in her arms.

“What's wrong?” Grace murmured, apparently not as much asleep as Brooke had guessed. Her startling green eyes fluttered open, a stark contrast to the other’s dark brown. 

“It’s nothing.” Brooke traced her fingers down the dark tattoo of wings intricately running the course of Grace’s back. “Just a bad dream.” She followed the feathers that curled and streaked across the girl’s exposed shoulder blades, slowly working down the small of her back. 

“Oh come on. Don’t give me that crap.” Almost hesitantly, as if not wanting to pull away from the touch, Grace rolled over to face her girlfriend. “You’re a terrible liar.”

“...No I’m not.”

“You are too. Your hands are shaking and you won’t look me in the eye. Not to mention you have that dead look in your eyes you get after you panic.” Brooke felt herself being pulled closer, and, having no reason to object, shifted closer until her forehead was pressed comfortably against Grace’s. “Here’s what's gonna happen. In a minute the alarm’s gonna go off, and we’re gonna groan and complain like the Millenials we are.”

“...Gen Z,” Brooke muttered, a hint of a smirk on her lips.  
“We’ll continue that debate later. After we manage to haul our arses up, you’re taking a shower because you stink. I love you, but you stink.” She grinned, pressing her lips to Brooke’s to stop her from objecting. “And then,” She whispered. “I gotta little surprise for you, m’kay?”

A pause.“fine.”

Ten minutes later they were both up, Grace getting dressed and wandering off to the kitchen as Brooke stumbled, still cursing, to the shower. It was unsurprisingly freezing. The cold, although doing a heck of a job washing all traces of sleep from Brooke’s brain, brought a string of curses from the bathroom so vulgar and profound their neighbor, Chuck, pounded on the wall. Brooke responded by yelling for him to ‘stick it where the sun don’t shine’, and, much to her delight, he shut up. Or maybe he passed out. You could never really know with Chuck.

She washed her hair quickly and wiped herself off with a towel, the actual body soap long gone. They’d made plans in the budget to buy exactly one bar for every three weeks… but that went out the window the moment Grace’s 1967 Chevy Impala, the only mode of transportation either of the girls had, was rear-ended by some lunatic who thought it would be a good idea to drive with ten pizza’s stacked on their lap. (they’d named the car baby because it was Grace’s baby. In all honesty, it should've been wrecked sooner.) Needless to say, both the pizzas and the girl’s collective budget met an unfortunate end. The damages cost so much they had almost had to move out of their two-room one bathroom apartment, the cost of which was barely covered by the three part-time jobs the two girls collectively covered. If this was life, life sucked.

“This better be a good surprise,” Brooke muttered, still wrapped in only a towel after she’d finished in the bathroom. She sat down at the small table. The girls may or not have stolen it from a shady coffee shop called Tomuras, which had long been out of business. It turned out that the place, which had been known for maybe dealing drugs, was definitely dealing drugs and got completely shut down. Long story short, Brooke and Grace were able to cherry pick much of the furniture they now owned.

“Of course it is. Do you really think I’d disappoint you, honey?” She perched on a chair that towered over the scarred table and grinned, showing off a chipped front tooth. “Believe me, you’ll love it. And before you freak out, my dad pitched in the money because he felt bad about not helping with baby.” She dropped a bulging envelope in front of Brooke and started to bounce and fidget with anticipation, which earned her a strange look from Brooke. Normally Grace was the coolest and most collected rainbow cucumber in all of gaytopia.

“Grace, I love you, but I swear if I see the words 'five dollars off two adult dinner entrees' again, I will not hesitate to stab you."

“Aw, you’re such a flirt.” She grinned and shook her head. “Just open it.”  
Brooke rolled her eyes and picked up the small package. “It’s light. Like an envelope of coupons. I swear, I will do it. You’ll wake up gagging on shredded paper.” 

“And then you’ll be really sad because you couldn’t afford to eat.” She pretended to pout. “Ugh. I can’t take it anymore. Just open it.”  
“Fine, fine…” Brooke tore open the flimsy paper and dumped the contents on the table. “It’s… a ball of coupons. I knew it would come to this” She looked up, unamused. “I hope the breadsticks were freaking worth it.”

“No, we just ran out of wrapping paper.”

She slowly unwrapped a small package, a little plain black box. She opened that and two pieces of paper fell out, each neatly folded in half. Brooke gasped as she recognized the symbol, just barely visible as its outline was illuminated through the paper. “No. No. That’s- oh god, Grace. How…?” With one hand she fistted her hair in disbelief as the other picked up one of the papers- or, as she more accurately realized, tickets. “Please tell me this isn’t a joke, because this is not freaking funny.” Hot tears blurred her vision as she looked up at Grace, her hands shaking violently. “This is- thank you. Thank you thank you thank you.” She let out a choked laugh. “I don’t even know what to say besides thank you.”

“Well of course.” Grace slid off the chair and into Brooke’s lap, legs wrapping around Brooke’s waist and the chair. “It’s my job to spoil my favorite girl.” With that, she leaned forward, lips on lips as her fingers brushed away the other’s tears. “It’s a week over the summer,” She hummed, pulling back slightly. “I booked us plane tickets to New York, where Ben Platt is coming back for one showing only of Dear Evan Hansen. And then…” She grinned, pressing a kiss lightly into her neck. “I have front row tickets to the Orlando P!ATD concert as well as a behind the scenes tour.”

“Panic! At the D-Disco?” Brookes' eyes widened, and despite her tears she smiled. “That's… that's too much, Grace.” She pulled her girlfriend forward and hugged her tightly, her own hands shaking. “I love it. Thank you so, so much.”  
Grace said nothing but smiled, holding her tight for a minute before pulling away. “I really hate to ruin the moment, but you have a class in twenty minutes, no?” She stood and pulled Brooke up along with her, not batting an eye when Brooke's towel fell, forgotten, to the floor. “Go get dressed. I don’t have any classes till three, so we should be able to have lunch after my morning shift. It’ll be crappy fast food, but free crappy fast food.”

“Nothing’s crappy when I’m with you,” Brooke mumbled quietly, reluctantly walking back to their room.

“Try as you might, but you can’t romanticize Dairy Queen.” Grace opened the door with her employee hat already on, trying and failing to make the greasy black thing look natural on her vibrantly blue hair. She wore no makeup- they couldn’t afford it even if she wanted it- but she was still by far the most beautiful human being Brooke had ever seen. The opinion might be just a tad biased, but to hell if Brooke cared.


	2. Mama We All Go to Hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> and here begins the angst and homophobia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you missed the tags and the summary, there is homophobia and angst.

Despite her having more than enough time, Brooke was still late to her lecture. Lucky for her it was Mr. Aizawa’s class, run by a teacher who, although known for assigning a brutal amount of work, was also famous for sleeping in and missing a good part of his earlier classes. It was no different this morning, as she took her seat ten minutes late with no instructor in sight. Her teacher’s tardiness just gave Brooke more time to work on other class’s homework and study for a final, as well as read a chapter of a textbook she’d been procrastinating on annotating. In other words, she was happy.

Brooke’s happiness lasted for a grand fifteen minutes, up until Mr. Aizawa and an unknown woman entered. She cursed under her breath, only half a chapter of reading finished. With finals in less than a month, she had a lot to do.

“Brooke.” Aizawa’s tired voice boomed through his lecture microphone, although hardly anyone was paying attention besides Brooke herself. “Mrs. Dolores here wants to speak with you privately. Bring all your stuff.”

That was weird. Why would this strange lady want to talk to her? Brooke’s mind flashed back to how Kimberly had ratted her out… but a school, even a Christian one like this, didn’t care about that, right? No, that couldn’t be the reason. Most likely she was just going to explain that some class had changed or that she owed a payment on their dorm. Still… the situation sparked a bad feeling in her gut. Brooke picked up her things and walked out, trying to ignore the apologetic look from her teacher. Since when did he ever show any sort of emotion?  
Mrs. Dolores was small and petite but rather plain, and when she smiled Brooke could almost smell the fakeness radiating from her. Brooke closed the door to the classroom behind her and stepped forward, crossing her arms. “Is there… a problem?”

“Well, sweety, that depends.” Her voice was dripping with an innocent southern accent, as if her vocal chords alone were trying to drown Brooke in deceptively sweet honey. “You see, from what the school has heard- and we hear everything, dear- you have fallen down a path that simply leads to your own demise.” She started walking down the hall, giving Brooke no choice but to walk with her. “Lucky for you, we’re here to steer you back towards the way of Christ- the way of light.”

“Holdup.” Brooke tried to stop, but Mrs. Dolores just placed her hands gently but firmly on Brooke’s shoulder, forcing her forward. For such a small woman, she was unnervingly strong. The bad feeling was beginning to snowball in the pit of her stomach, becoming harder and harder to ignore. “Listen, I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m Christian and have been for all my life. Why would you-”  
“Oh deary.” She cut her off, opening the door to lead Brooke into the chapel wing of the building. “You need help, my child, and we’re here to give it to you. Please, say nothing more.” Thinking that was where they were headed, Brooke stepped towards the sanctuary only to be yanked back. “Pray later. Right now, it’s confession time.”


	3. Straight up trash

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm bad at writing torture

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: lowkey water torture

Reverend Graham was a no-nonsense man with deep, conservative beliefs. “Confess your sins.” He commanded Brooke, watching her from his side of the desk. His office was rather large, making Brooke feel very small.

“My- my sins?” She blinked, a bit taken back.

“Yes, child. Your sins.” He leaned forward, looking straight through her.

“I, uh…” Brooke tried to think, but the look in his eye was unnerving. She could tell he was waiting for her to put the pieces together, to come up with that final word to the hangman phrase. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

He smiled. Brooke had lost his little game and had fallen in his trap, and for that he’d make sure she hung. “But you do.” He opened a drawer and took out an iPad, flipping it around so she could see the screen- or, more accurately, her noose. The sight of it made Brooke’s blood run cold. So that was why she was here.

“...That's just me kissing someone.” She said quietly. Luckily, from the angle of the shot, one couldn’t identify Grace. Brooke, on the other hand, was beaming, her image as clear as day.

Graham was silent, staring her down for a long moment as if he enjoyed watching her claw for air on the gallows she herself had built. “This generation is flawed. You see something like this, a monstrosity of a sin, and shrug it off as if it’s normal.” Before she could respond he opened a different drawer and slapped a thick pile of papers in front of her, his thick and calloused hand resting on top. “However, you are not without hope. I’m offering you a program- free of course, inclusive in your dues. I’ve arranged it so it doesn’t interfere with your other classes.”

Brooke stared at the papers, the dread in her stomach quickly blooming into plain nausea. “I- I don’t want this. Thanks for the offer, but I’ll pass.”

“Then we’ll have no choice to expel you. You’ll be banned indefinitely from the campus.” A sick grin was slowly spreading over his face. “We can’t just let a greedy sinner like yourself infect our other students with your… lifestyle. Take the class or leave.”  
Brooke was pretty certain she would actually be sick. Was this even legal? Either she took a stupid… conversion class or she lost everything she’d worked so hard for. “When… does it start?”

“Assuming you agree, today. Now, actually.”

“...fine.” It couldn’t be too bad, right? She’d just play along and half-ass it, give them what they wanted without actually changing. Brooke was strong. She’d get through this.

The man’s smile only widened. “Fantastic. I knew you’d make the right choice, Brooke.” He stood, towering over the girl. “You can fill out the paperwork later. Right now, I need you to give me your phone and everything else on you. I’ll be… filtering through them as you undergo your first session.”

She grit her teeth and handed her belongings over, not daring to object. Mrs Dolores, who’d been observing ominously like a hawk stalking her pray, jumped up and made her way to her side, forcing her up. There was a dark glint in her eyes, triumphant. Brooke was really beginning to loathe the woman.

“Right this way, deary…” Dolores half dragged Brooke back into the sanctuary, locking the heavy oak double doors behind her and effectively trapping Brooke inside. “We’ll start easy, with a baptism.” A collapsible plastic pool, presumably filled with blessed water, was waiting before Brooke. It’s water was as still and silent as the grave, it’s solemnity seeming to be an accusation all in itself. “You gave Pastor Graham all your belongings, and- no offense honey- but your current cloths could use a wash.” She herself stripped off her jacket and climbed into the pool, waiting for Brooke to follow. “Your homosexuality is simply a demon inside you. Reaffirming your faith is the first step for moving on, back towards the light. It’ll also start purging you of your demons.”

With a sigh Brooke nodded and hesitantly stepped in the pool, half expecting the water to burn. It was actually intensely cold, and it took her a full minute to brave into the hip deep water. “So… a baptism and I can go?” She kept her eyes down on her soaked jeans, the little doodles she’d drawn on the cuffs out of boredom seeping out and staining the water a rainbow of colors.  
“Yes, Deary. This will be it for today.” She stepped forward, placing a hand on her lower back and the other on her forehead. “Now just relax. It’s a quick dunk, and then you can go.”

“...Fine.” Brooke shivered, goosebumps forming uneasily as she felt Dolore’s leathery skin flush against the small of her back, allowing herself to be lowered face down into the depths. Expecting a quick release of her hands, Brooke tried to push herself back up to leave, but the woman’s arms stayed rigid and held her down in place below the water. Panic set in as her lungs begged to regain control of the situation, and she attempted to push off of the ground with her foot. This only made the bony fingers curl around her hair tugged sharply, eliciting a gasp of pain that released what little air she had left. Water flooded into the girl’s mouth down her throat as she choked and sputtered, tearing her fingertips against the side of the pool in a last desperate attempt to breach the surface. The effort was futile. The last thing Brooke saw as her consciousness faded was her own blood trickling from her fingers, twirling and dancing until it was consumed by the enormity of the water before her.


	4. Cushion of Fluff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand we're back in the fluff zone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final Chapter.

"What’s wrong?” Grace flopped down in the Dairy Queen booth, having just been relieved of her shift. “You look like someone just told you there was a rainbow, but turned out just to be stoned.” Brooke managed a smile, not having the heart to tell Grace what she’d just gone through. She barely wanted to remember it herself.

“Mr. Aizawa was just having a bad day and took it out on us.” She mumbled, picking halfheartedly at her basket of fries. Her still damp hair hung lifelessly around her head like a broken halo. “We have almost six hundred pages to read by next Tuesday, and then an exam over it.”

“Well, he’s a schmuck,” Grace hummed, leaning over the table and taking Brooke’s hand, her fingers wrapped in bandages. “But don’t you worry, because I am here.” She laughed at her own anime reference, and Brooke couldn’t help but fall a little more in love with her all over again. Was she really going to let a little torture and stubborn beliefs rob her of this love?

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. We’ll get through this.”

“Of course I am.” She looked up as another student awkwardly approached, holding the two large Reese's blizzards. “Thanks, Jake.” Jake nodded and handed them their treat before quickly walking away. “He likes me, but doesn’t seem to understand what it means when I say that I’m lesbian.” Grace winked at Brooke. “But hey, maybe he’s perfect for you.”

“Just because I’m bisexual doesn’t mean I’d date a guy.” She shot back, grabbing her ice cream. “Besides, I’ve already got a clingy girlfriend. What more could I want?”

“A clingy girlfriend who’ll wrap you in a blanket and give you hot cocoa when you have too much homework?” Grace grinned. “Oh wait… you already have one of those.”

Brooke just stuffed the blizzard into her mouth so she didn’t have to answer, which of course resulted in a brain freeze. She groaned in pain but smiled, glad that the worst pain was coming from ice cream of all things. Being here with Grace- talking, laughing, joking, loving,- just felt right. How could something as pure and sweet as their love be wrong enough to darn them to heck? How could her being deeply in love with someone be so wrong, while people hating her happiness be right? Sitting there, watching Grace smile and messily eat her ice cream, all the torture and fear melted away. They’d get through this together and come out on top victorious, no matter what else was to come. They had each other, and that was enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I doubt anyone will even read it, but if you do, kudos to you


End file.
